Celebrity Status
by halfway-to-forever00
Summary: It's hard to have a decent personal life when you're the Avatar. Korra figures this out pretty quickly. Makorra.


**Celebrity Status**

* * *

It's hard to have a decent personal life when you're the Avatar.

Korra figures this out pretty quickly when she gets jumped for the fifth time by the barrage of flashing lights and screaming reporters outside a window booth at Narook's Noodle House.

Asami quirks an eyebrow, setting down her chopsticks. "What are they on about?"

Korra scowls, sinking lower into her chair, "Not to sound full of myself or anything, but probably me."

"We're just eating lunch!"

"Probably trying to calculate my calorie intake right now."

"Well do they really _need_ that many cameras – _hey, that's my car you assholes_!"

Korra decides it's time to start packing her own lunches.

* * *

Bolin is sympathetic.

"Don't worry, when me n' Mako first got big in Probending there were a few that followed us everywhere too."

Korra throws a particularly violent punch at the dummy, spilling straw stuffing everywhere. "How did you stand it?"

"Eh, I was okay with it; I mean, you just do your thing and eventually you'll forget that they're there." Bolin shrugs, balancing three earthen discs at once. "And Mako was – well, y'know, it's _Mako_."

Korra nods. She knows all too well.

Bolin catches her expression and grins. "No worries Korra, they'll probably just trail you for a week before getting bored. After all, you _are_ quite the interesting individual."

"You mean I'm _the Avatar_." But she's smiling back anyway.

"No, I meant exactly what I said," Bolin replies, face earnest.

Korra watches as he sends the discs careening into the practice net, relief flooding her fingertips as she uncurls her fists.

Her smile widens. "Thanks, Bolin."

* * *

_Bolin's right_, Korra tells herself as her senses are assaulted by the camera flashes and prying questions waiting for her outside the Arena.

_This has to end eventually, right?_

* * *

She was wrong.

* * *

"It's like they have nothing better to do than to follow me around all day!" Korra snarls, ripping open a bowl of Flameo Instant Noodles.

Mako shoots her a concerned glance over his paper. "I know it gets irritating sometimes, but it _is _their job. And that's milk you're adding, not water."

Korra jumps, spilling some onto the counter, and curses under her breath, slumping into a dejected heap over the sink. "They followed me all the way from the Council meeting, asking about my love life. I had to hide in an alleyway at the market for _half an hour_."

She pouts pitifully, and Mako sighs, rising from his seat on the couch and digging out a new cup of noodles for her. "So what did you tell them?"

"I – _what?_"

Mako sets some water on the stove, then proceeds to drain the milk from Korra's ruined cup into a glass. "You heard me." There's an uncharacteristic twinkle in his eye.

Korra eyes him, distracted. "Nothing, of course I – what are you doing?"

His brow furrows slightly. "Old habit; I don't like throwing away food. And they actually let you walk away without saying anything?"

"More like run away. Sprint away. Airbend my ass outta there." She picks at her bangs, feeling defensive out of nowhere. "Are you seriously telling me I should volunteer my personal life to the paparazzi?"

Mako shrugs. "You shouldn't have to hide under a rock for the rest of your life because of this. Anyway, it worked for Bolin and me; they tend to leave you alone when they get what they want and the novelty wears off."

Korra snorts. "I was under the impression Bolin volunteered all the information and you just lurked in your brooding corner."

"_I do _not_ brood_ –"

They're cut off by the kettle whistling. Mako reaches for it, but Korra grabs it first.

"I got it," she says lightly, draining the last few drops of milk from her failed noodle cup before filling it to the brim with boiling water. "Waste not, want not."

Mako gives her a smile soft enough to flip her heart.

* * *

When the noodle cup is empty and Mako is re-immersed in the paper, Korra makes her decision.

"Let's go out tomorrow."

He raises his eyebrows at her over the top of the newsprint. "Really?"

Korra huffs. "What's that supposed to mean? _Yes_, really. We've both been working non-stop for the last month, don't you think we should deserve a break?" _Paparazzi be damned._

Mako gives her his signature crooked grin, catching her by an arm and rising to brush his lips across her forehead. "That sounds great."

They're interrupted by the front door flinging open, and Bolin wanders into the brothers' apartment, carrying an armload of library books.

"Oh, hey Mako, Korra," he greets hastily, tucking the books awkwardly against his side. "Erm, I already ate dinner, so I'm just gonna turn in early tonight – you kids have fun." Despite the jumpiness, Bolin still doesn't forget to tip them a shrewd wink, leaving Korra sputtering at his closed door while Mako turns many different shades of mortification at once.

Eventually, Mako clears his throat. "So I'll pick you up at the Island at three?"

Korra offers him a relieved smile. "Yeah, that sounds great."

* * *

They haven't made it three steps off the City docks before the first swarm of cameras catch them.

"Miss Avatar! Is it true that –"

"Avatar Korra, do you have anything to say about –"

"_Korra! Korra, turn for the cameras_ –"

Korra shoots Mako an apologetic smile, then threads her fingers in his.

There's a moment of shocked stillness, then all hell breaks loose.

* * *

They collapse into a booth at some small, inconspicuous Fire Nation Teashop, out of breath with laughter and running.

"Oh my Spirits, we finally lost them," Korra pants, clutching at a stitch in her side. "And now I'm scared to read the papers tomorrow morning."

Mako slumps against the wall, still grinning uncontrollably. "Just avoid the gossip sections and you should be good. _Their faces, though_."

And so they dissolve back into raucous peals of laughter.

* * *

It's not quite a date, but Korra thinks she likes it better this way

There's no flowers, no chocolate, no fancy dinners. They spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the sunshine at the park, and manage to slip into Narook's afterwards for a hearty meal.

By the time Mako walks her back to the docks, there's not a single reporter or camera in sight.

And as he kisses her goodnight, their fingers still locked together, Korra thanks Tui and La that the ordeal is finally over.

* * *

She should be used to being wrong by now.

* * *

Asami breaks the news first, when Korra visits her at the garage during one of her few precious free hours. Bolin hovers around, poking and prodding at various trinkets, having stopped by on the way back from the City library.

"So, have you seen the papers today?" Asami asks casually, inspecting a wrench with more attention than necessary.

"Nah, don't really have that much time for it anymore," Korra replies, hopping up onto the hood of a nearby Satomobile. "Why?"

Asami exchanges a glance with Bolin, seeming to be at some internal war with herself. The young Earthbender ducks his head, before speaking up. "Well, there were some…_things_ in there. About you. And Mako." There's a rare frown tugging at the corners of his lips now.

Korra feels her stomach plummet. "What 'things'?"

Asami takes a moment to wipe the engine grease off her hands, before rummaging through a messy worktable and tossing over a wrinkled newsprint. "Here. Fourth page"

Korra catches the rustling paper, and with a leaden weight in her chest, flips to the entertainment section.

As she scans through the two-page article, she feels her ribs tighten and twist around her lungs. Words stand out against the rest, bolded and loud with venom: _sordid_ _love triangles, speculations of the Sato's Equalist involvements, street rat orphans, suspected gang dealings during the Probending tournament. _There were even mentions of a pregnancy scare.

When she finally reaches the bottom, Korra looks up, wild-eyed. "What – _what the hell is this?_"

Bolin's expression is both pained and sympathetic. "Hey Korra, calm down; let them write what they want – we all know that none of this stuff about you is true."

"_But this isn't just about me anymore! _You're in here. Asami too. And – and Mako. Oh Spirits, I've dragged all of you into this mess."

They're both by her side in an instant, and Asami's voice is firm. "You didn't drag us into anything!"

Korra chews at her lips nervously. "But –"

"We're here because of you, Korra, and always will be, so the tabloids can screw off and write all the lies they want." Beside her, Bolin nods his head fervently.

Korra looks at their faces, fierce yet gentle with determination, and remembers the stone-cold dread in her stomach the night Tarrlok threw her to the press wolves at her own banquet. Remembers the feeling of facing down the flashing cameras and prying questions, fighting a battle for one.

Alone.

But Avatar Korra is no longer alone.

And so she rises to her feet, making sure to grind her foot down on the fallen newspaper, and throws her arms around the two, clearing their toes from the ground. "Thanks, guys. I needed that."

Bolin pats her lightly on the back. "Korra, you've never cared about what others say about you, and you shouldn't start now."

She smiles. "I know, but this isn't about just me anymore."

Maybe it never was.

* * *

Mako's already back at the apartment, flipping through a heavy hardcover book by the time she bursts through the front door, the newspaper still clutched in one hand.

"Mako, about the papers today –"

"Did you know Bolin's studying for the Metalbending Police Academy entrance exam?"

"Police – what?"

He waves the volume in her general direction: '_Laws of Republic City_'. "Found this on the table this morning, along with a bunch of bent spoons. I've been wondering where our cutlery kept disappearing to."

"Oh, well that's great! Wow, I had no idea – _are you trying to change the subject?_"

Mako stares at her for a moment, grasping at straws. Then, as if remembering he was never really good at making up excuses to begin with: "Oh. Guess you really did read the article, then."

His calmness catches her off guard. Korra falters for a moment. "Aren't you...mad?"

Mako shrugs, tossing the book onto the couch. "At first, yeah. But _you_ didn't write that article, and let's be real, we all knew this would happen eventually."

"We-we did?"

"There were some pretty nasty stuff about me and Bolin back when we first got famous, mostly picking at my past with the Triads. Asami had to deal with a lot when her Father was exposed, too. So none of this is much of a surprise anymore."

Korra gapes. "But you _hate_ the tabloids! You never even gave interviews when we were in the finals! I just – I feel responsible, Mako. You shouldn't have to put up with getting dragged through the mud just because they want to get scandalous about the Avatar's personal life."

He reaches over and laces his fingers with her, spreading warmth and familiarity through her frayed nerves. "None of us are here against our will, Korra."

She pouts, but accepts a kiss on her forehead, unable to keep the relieved grin from spreading across her face. "That's practically what Asami and Bolin said." She tilts her head and brushes her lips teasingly against the corner of his mouth. "I guess I just needed to hear it from you, too. Even the mighty Avatar is allowed to have insecurities, you know?"

He smiles, lips moving against her cheek, sending ripples of warmth racing through her – "I know; so here's your daily reminder" – and captures her lips with his own, sweet and hinted with spearmint, and Korra reciprocates eagerly, her kisses heavy with intent and light with reprieve, fingers tangling in his scarf.

When they finally break apart, Mako wears a dazed expression similar to the one he adopts after getting hit too hard at Probending practice.

"Oh."

"What's so 'oh'?" Korra laughs.

Mako frowns, still slightly breathless. "I forget what we were talking about."

The front door suddenly slams open, saving him from further confusion as Korra reacts from many long years of fine-tuned reflexes and head-butts Mako's chin hard enough to make them both see stars.

Bolin and Asami come to a stop and stare confusedly at the scene unfolding before them – Korra rubbing the crown of her head with pinpricks of tears in the corners of her eyes, and Mako sprawled unceremoniously on the couch, clearly in the throes of great pain.

"D-did we interrupt something?"

Korra manages a half-grin, already rummaging through the fridge for some ice. "Nah. Just talking about how lucky I am to have you guys."

Asami laughs, high and clear. "Luck has nothing to do with this, Korra."

Bolin whoops. "_Ch'yeah_! Team Avatar still goin' strong!"

Mako sits up with a groan, catching the bag of ice Korra tosses him. "Fantastic. Now that we've sorted this out, _you_ –" he jabs a finger at Bolin, "– and I need to have a chat." Mako prods the law book sitting innocuously on the couch beside him, but there's a small smile on his lips and a proud glint in his eye.

Bolin gives his brother a sheepish smile. "Oh. About that."

* * *

The cameras and flashing lights still follow her, but thankfully their numbers dwindle as the months pass.

Sometimes the attention annoys Mako visibly; Korra can tell by the way his fists clench and smoke protectively when reporters get too close and personal. But mostly, she just avoids reading gossip rags and locks her fingers with Mako's every time they go out.

"Let them talk," he reasons, one sunny afternoon as they feed turtleducks at the City park. "They're just bitter they'll never get to kiss the Avatar."

His boldness actually takes the words right out of Korra's mouth, and so they both dissolve into three and a half minutes of uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

But by the fifth month of being tailed by flashing cameras everywhere in public and tabloid articles that make out her life to be ten times more adventurous and scandalous than it really is, Korra decides it's time for a change.

"C'mere," she says, tugging Mako down by the scarf.

"Korra –"

"Oh, hush," she murmurs, before her lips close over his. "Let's give them something real to talk about."

_End._


End file.
